A Whiter Shade Of Pale
Garu Brooker / Keith Reid
We skipped a light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kind of seasick
The crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
The waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, "there is no reason
And the truth is plain to see"
But I wandered through my playing cards
Would not let her be one of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might have just as well been closed
And so it was later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale
And so it was that later